


Mother Hen-ing

by Feathermouse



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:56:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feathermouse/pseuds/Feathermouse
Summary: A brief discussion between Robert and Aaron about the merits of beer following a liver injury





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had a big problem with Aaron drinking in Friday's episode, I needed them to have a conversation to fix it.

The first week back from hospital was... difficult. They had a few minor disagreements about Aaron’s physical therapy, two failed escape attempts to the scrapyard and one, final, blazing row about how, ‘light physical activities and no heavy lifting does not mean bedrest, Robert.’

Robert knew he was being overprotective, but two inpatient stays on account of life-threatening septicaemia and another life-threatening liver laceration does that to a bloke. A fiancé. A ring on his hand was not a new sensation for Robert, but he kept messing with it regardless. He felt a weight of responsibility he had never had before. 

As awful as it was, the funeral was a chance for them both to get out of the pub. Robert felt like some sort of bird, fluttering around Aaron the whole time, ready to hustle him home at the first sign of over-exertion or pain. While he breathed a sigh of relief when they got back to the pub, he realised there was another hurdle to overcome.

“You’re not going to drink that, are you?” Robert gazed at the pint in front of Aaron in disbelief. 

“Well, I wasn’t going to wash my hair with it.”

“You’ve had a lacerated liver!”

“I know.” Aaron said, rolling his eyes.

“You were in hospital for nearly a week. You’ve had major surgery!”

“I know. I was there.” Aaron took a sip of his pint, in clear defiance of Robert's outrage.

“You’re not supposed to be drinking at all for at least six weeks. I distinctly remember your doctor telling you that only a week ago.” Robert clenched his fist to prevent himself from reaching out and physically snatching the glass out of Aaron’s hand.

“And yet, here I am, having a drink.” Aaron sighed and leant into Roberts side, the slightest of pressure on Roberts shoulder. “I know you’re worrying, you’ve been like a mother hen all week. But this is James’ funeral. It could have been mine. I’m having a drink.”

“OK, one,” Robert relented, “but I’m plying you with water later.”

“Two, with a glass of water in between.” 

“Done. You’re going to feel rotten drinking with antibiotics. You’ll have no sympathy from me later.”

“Liar.” Aaron gave Robert a brief smile and his heart skipped a beat.

Robert knew that this would not be the only bargaining he would have to do during Aaron’s recovery period, but provided he had a healed, fully functioning fiancé at the end of it, he would be happy.


End file.
